


"I made a mistake."

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anthea Ships it with Force if Necessary, Don't copy to another site, First Dates, M/M, Nervous Mycroft, minor disaster, mystrade, nervous Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26336101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: A few mistakes are made along the way but as first dates go it could have been worse.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Monday Part 2: Flash Fiction [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862299
Comments: 36
Kudos: 145





	"I made a mistake."

“Hullo, Mycroft. What do you need?”

At the sound of Greg’s voice, Mycroft’s heart swelled up in his throat making it hard to speak. “I need to…” He trailed off. This was very difficult. He glanced at Anthea, who nodded at him encouragingly.

“Yeah?” Greg sounded tired.

“I… Ah… It’s…” Mycroft stammered and then mumbled.

“I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

Mycroft cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “I made a mistake. I would like to accept your invitation to dinner.” There was silence. “If… if it still stands,” he said quietly.

“You know I was asking you on a date,” Greg responded cautiously.

“Yes, I know that.” Mycroft’s hand gripped his mobile, hard. He cut his eyes over to his assistant who was giving him a quizzical look. “Now.” His free hand had found a pen and he flipped it nervously through his fingers.

“Oh. Oh! Okay.” Greg’s voice sounded much less tired suddenly and Mycroft had to smile. “That’s great!” Greg paused. “So, what changed your mind?”

“Anthea threatened to shoot me. Ow!” Mycroft was kicked in the shins, hard, by a pointed toe shoe.

Greg chuckled. “I’m sure she was kidding.”

Mycroft leaned over to rub his leg, giving his assistant an affronted glare. “Perhaps. In any case, her very blunt assessment of my emotional intelligence convinced me to reconsider, and when I did, I could admit I very much would like to spend more time with you.” The confession came out nearly at a whisper.

“I’m really happy to hear that. Really happy.” Mycroft could hear the glee in Greg’s voice. It was much, much nicer than the tired, resignation. “So, 7 pm Friday at mine? Will that work?”

“Perfectly.”

“See you then, Mycroft.”

“See you then, Gregory.” Mycroft hung up his mobile and stared at his desk top.

“Well?” Anthea prodded.

Mycroft looked up, wearing a stunned expression. “We have a date. Friday at 7 pm at his flat.”

Anthea sagged with relief. “About damn time,” she sighed.

“Shut up.”

* * *

“Oh God. What have I done?” Greg muttered as he hung up the phone. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Oh God. Oh God.”

There was a sharp rap on the door frame. “You all right, boss?” Sally Donovan stood in the doorway looking concerned.

“You won’t believe it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to tell me anyway?”

Greg took a deep breath and spilled it. “Mycroft Holmes is coming to my flat for dinner.”

Sally stepped into Greg’s office and shut the door. “Are you serious? The Freak’s brother?”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Fine.” Sally sat in the visitor’s chair. “Why is he coming to your flat for dinner?”

“I invited him. Oh God. I made a mistake.” Greg’s eyes were wide with panic. “My flat’s not nice enough. I can’t cook anything fancy. What was I thinking?”

Sally stared at Greg. “Let me get this straight. You invited Mycroft Holmes to your flat for dinner, as a _date_?”

“Yes, as a date,” Greg snapped.

Sally grinned. “Oh, you’ve got it bad for him.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Mycroft set down his spoon and dabbed his lips with his napkin. “That was amazing,” he praised Greg.

“You’re amazing,” Greg replied as he licked his spoon. There was still a bit of dessert left on the plate they were sharing.

“i did nothing but show up with a bottle of wine.”

“Yeah, but you looked amazing when you did.”

“Did I?” Mycroft sat back a little and smoothed his hand down his tie and vest. He’d taken great care dressing for this date. He’d even worn his vintage Hermes tie with his favorite tan suit.

Greg smiled at Mycroft’s preening. “You still do.” Mycroft blushed adorably at the compliment. “Have the last bite.” Greg spooned up the last bit of the syllabub he’d made.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Mycroft demurred, though it had been exceptionally tasty.

“You sure?” Greg waved the spoonful near Mycroft’s mouth. Mycroft opened his mouth and Greg tipped the spoon toward Mycroft’s pink lips. The creamy dessert slipped off the spoon and dripped down the front of Mycroft’s tie and waistcoat. “Oh shit!” Greg couldn’t mistake the dismay on Mycroft’s face as he looked at the glob of fruit and fluff on his clothes. “I’ll get some water. I’m so sorry.”

“No, no water.” Mycroft carefully lifted the food off his clothes with his spoon. Dark stains marred his waistcoat and tie.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to feed you.”

“I could have refused. Do you have any stain remover for silk?”

Greg stared. “They make such a thing?”

Mycroft looked up from his efforts to unknot his tie. “Of course.” Greg could only shake his head. “No? Then I should go. There’s an all night dry cleaners near my office.”

Greg stood and followed Mycroft to the door. “I’m really sorry.”

“Please don’t worry about it. I had a lovely time.”

Before Greg could fully understand what was happening Mycroft was gone. “Until I ruined your tie,” he muttered at the empty hallway.

* * *

As Greg was cleaning the dinner dishes, he heard a knock on his flat door. Drying his hands on the dish towel he called out, “Who is it?”

“Mycroft Holmes.”

Greg wrenched open the door to find Mycroft standing in his hallway looking rather roguish without his waistcoat and tie. “Mycroft?”

“Good evening Gregory. I wanted to let you know Mr. Lee is quite confident he can remove the stains.”

“Thank Christ,” Greg breathed.

“I was hoping it wasn’t too late to rectify a mistake I made before leaving.”

“A mistake?”

Mycroft nervously licked his lips. “I left without giving you a kiss goodnight.”

Greg blinked mutely, and then a smile spread over his face. “Come in. That is definitely a mistake that needs to be rectified.”


End file.
